Dealing with Lucifer (ON HIATUS)

Flying the nest (3)

Scarlett's POV
It was as if I had awoken from a nightmare. Some kind of horror movie shit that no one and I mean no one would ever expect to happen in their own home. In their own kitchen for crying out loud. To their own FUCKING mother!!!

Slowly, making sure I don't make any sudden movements, I lower my hands down to my side and stare at my 'father' in horror.

"How could you? WHAT THE FUCK HAVE YOU DONE YOU GOOD FOR NOTHING BASTARD!" I scream, tears streaming down my face.

My eyesight tinges red as I look at him, hatred and anger rolling off of me in palpable waves. But you wanna know what he does? The bastard smirks. He fucking smirks.

"Awwwww, did itty bitty Scarlett get into an oopsie?" He coos.

"Don't fucking patronise me" I glare at him. Trying to see into his soul, looking  for any sliver of remorse in his eyes. He seems to work out what I'm doing and he takes the gun, pressing it to his temple.

"Well then, it was a pleasure knowing you my dear" he spits, taunting me. "You wanna know something real funny? No? Well I'm going to tell you anyway. I'm not even your fucking father. The good for nothing whore," he says, motions to my mothers corpse "had a fling with some guy. So call me a bastard all you want, in actual fact it's you. Your the fucking bastard born out of wedlock." He takes a moment to look at the destruction his words have caused before laughing at his own sick joke and BAM. Another brain joins my mothers on the floor.

I break out of my trance when I feel warm droplets of blood splatter my face, and I look in horror at the scene in front of me. My mother and my father, who apparently isn't my father, lie in a pool of blood on the kitchen floor. If I thought my life was a shit show before, it means that now it's a huge case of clusterfuckery.

Now then, I've seen enough movies and tv shows to know that the position I'm in is not a good one. All the evidence incriminates me and to point out the slightly more obvious matter at hand, THERE ARE TWO VERY DEAD BODIES LYING IN FRONT OF ME.  So I do what any other normal and completely sane person would do. I fuck up the crime scene. I put the gun back in Nigel's hand as he dropped it when he fell, I position everything to look like a case of murder followed by suicide, which of course it is but you never now what the sneaky police could draw from the evidence.

After finishing the bloody job I stare down at the two corpses in front of me. The thing that terrifies me most is that I feel nothing. I feel completely and utterly numb. As if I'm high on heroine and nothing matters.

Suddenly an idea comes to me. If I'm dead no one will look for me... So I need to die. Easy, right? Well luckily for me, I've always been good at forging other people's handwriting and you know what they say, play to your strengths! So I do just that. I write a note from Nigel *cough cough* saying that he killed me and dumped my body in the river before coming here and shooting mum and then killing himself. Perfect. The river is big enough that they will stop looking for a body quite quickly and my convenient disappearance will only help cement my lie into the community.

I rush upstairs and grab any essentials that I will need, mainly money and tampons (What? I'm a woman! Deal with it) and grab the key to the back door. Luckily for me, because we had bigger problems to deal with, our garden was always overgrown and untidy. This meant that when I unlocked the back door and left through it the neighbours couldn't see me. I lock the door behind me and put the key under a flower pot near the back door. I'm hoping that the police will assume that that is where we kept the spare key if we ever got locked out of the house.

I can hear muttering from the other side of the fence to my right, something along the lines of the police and gunshots and blah blah blah. I guess they did hear them then. Well, looks like I'm leaving in the nick of time!

I go to the back of our garden and, to be honest, it's relatively big compared to the size of the house. My eyes scan over the fence and I look for a way over it. I spot a pile of old crates stacked up in the corner and I walk over making sure to test them so that I know whether they are strong enough to hold my weight. I stack about five of them on top of each other, just high enough to jump over to the other side of the fence. Finally, I clamber to the top and look over the side of the fence, pleased when I notice nothing but long grass on the other side. I jump over the fence and land, wincing as I do so, not only from the pain of falling from about 3 metres in the air, but more so from the fact that my arm is broken. Now that the adrenaline is starting to wear off, I can feel the throbbing in my left forearm.

I try and ignore the splintering pain coming from my arm and instead sling my backpack over my shoulder. Turning around, I glance back at the only real home I've ever had, albeit not the best I could have wished for, but it was still a roof over my head. That is something I cannot expect from now on.

With a sigh, I turn and start to trudge towards the woodland located about a five minute walk from my house. I used to go there all the time when the shouting would get too bad. It was my little bubble, separate from the world. After a short walk, I reach the little den that I built for myself. I spot the first aid kit lying in the chest (don't ask why I've got one there, my childhood was pretty fucked up) and start to attempt and providing some kind of support to my broken arm. While I'm at it I also pop a few pain killers in my mouth to try and lessen the pain.

Although it isn't nightfall yet, I grab the sleeping bag and get inside it, thinking about the great day I had! Well then, here's to another fucked up day in my extremely fucked up life...

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A/N
So I know it's a bit sooner than expected but I'm gonna try and get two chapters posted a week whilst I haven't got a lot of homework. Let me know what you think!!!
Word count-1152